


Everdream

by DorkKnight



Series: You Found Me (Soulmate Series) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bullying, Happy Ending, He doesnt know what to do, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tadashi is a floof, Tsukki is a confused boi, mild Self-harm, protect him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 13:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15973721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorkKnight/pseuds/DorkKnight
Summary: He doesn't feel affection for anybody, not in the true sense, except for perhaps Shouyou, though he gets on his nerves more often than not. He doesn't do friendships, and he doesn't care what people think about him.He's mean, and he's rude, cold and unforgiving, even at this age. He doesn't give a shit about this soulmate, but they'd be lucky if they never met him. He isn't exactly the best company.Besides, he hates the fact that even if he managed to fall in love with someone against all odds, it'd be dictated by the universe, or some bullshit supreme power or whatever.No, he doesn't need any of this soulmate crap.He goes to the bathroom in lunch break and scrubs off the marker stains with liberal amounts of soap.





	Everdream

He's ten when the marks first appear on his skin.

 

He remembers coming back from school and frowning confusedly at the paint marks all over his arms— he didn't have art class that day— and besides, he hasn't taken off his three layers of clothes since morning, given that he gets cold easily, so he isn't sure where the marks came from.

 

Nevertheless, he washes off the paint, standing on a stool to reach the basin, watches the water turn a interesting shade of green. Some of the paint sticks to the basin— irked, he washes out the entire area, dousing his hands in sanitizer right after.

 

"Kei?" His mom calls from downstairs. "Dinner is ready!"

 

"Coming!"

 

He wipes out the entire sink with a paper towel, disposes of it methodically, glares at the spotless basin as if daring it to expose the slightest hint of paint, and giving his hands one final wipe, gets off his stool and goes to join his family, pushing the mysterious green paint of his mind.

 

____

 

The marks keep appearing— more paint, stray pen marks, even permanent marker which is a pain to wash off.

 

Kei doesn't puzzle over them. He just scrubbes them off and wears long sleeves when he can.

 

___

 

He's eleven when his best friend Shouyou, notices.

 

"Kei!" He yells, and he has no idea why he sounds so delighted. Shouyou grabs his arm and examines the sketch pen marks on his left palm. "How— what are these?"

 

"Marker stains," Kei says, shrugging. "Isn't it obvious?"

 

"These aren't any marker stains," he says excitedly. "How long has this been going on?"

 

Kei pulls away his arm from his grasp and crosses them over his chest, a little too rattled by his enthusiasm. "How do you know I didn't put them there myself?"

 

"Because you're a clean freak!" Shouyou babbles. "There's no way you would do something like that. Which— which means— do you know what this means?"

 

"No," he says dryly. He doesn't particularly want to know, but he has a feeling that Shouyou won't shut up until he's said his piece, so he says, "enlighten me."

 

"Kei," he says, eyes shining. "You have a soulmate!"

 

_Nah_ , his brain supplies, immediately. _Don't want one._

 

Kei snorts in agreement with his brain. "Yeah, right."

 

"I'm serious, Kei!" Shouyou says. "My mom told me about them. Everybody has one. How long has this been happening?"

 

"A year, give or take," Kei sighs.

 

"A year?! And you didn't tell anyone?"

 

Kei shrugs. He couldn't care less about this supposed soulmate (whatever that means) of his. "I don't give a shit about soulmates."

 

"But—"

 

"I don't care, loser." He turns and walks off to their classroom.

 

It's really the truth. He doesn't feel affection for anybody, not in the true sense, except for perhaps Shouyou, though he gets on his nerves more often than not. He doesn't do friendships, and he doesn't care what people think about him. He's mean, and he's rude, cold and unforgiving, even at this age. He doesn't give a shit about this soulmate, but they'd be lucky if they never met him. He isn't exactly the best company.

 

Besides, he hates the fact that even if he managed to fall in love with someone against all odds, it'd be dictated by the universe, or some bullshit supreme power or whatever.

 

No, he doesn't need any of this soulmate crap.

 

He goes to the bathroom in lunch break and scrubs off the marker stains with liberal amounts of soap.

 

___

 

They're thirteen and it's a quiet, sunny Friday when words start to appear over Shouyou's arm.

 

They're just back from school, feasting greedily on ice-cream in the stuffy heat, when they find some shade under the trees and flop down thankfully. Shouyou tries to engage him in conversation, but he's tired and sweaty and gross and he tells him to _fuck off, shorty._

 

Undeterred, Shouyou steals his ice-cream, though Kei doesn't mind. Anything to keep him shut.

 

He's nearly drifting off in the heat when Shouyou screams.

 

"What is it?" He's instantly awake, looking for the threat. "Oi, Shrimp!"

 

But Shouyou's looking at his left arm, transfixed— squinting, Kei understands why. Bold, black letters are writing themselves across his skin. He stares at them curiously.

 

"Oh, wow," Shouyou whispers, clutching Kei's arm tightly with his right. "My soulmate!"

 

 

**Dumbass, my mom said it's about time I wrote to you, so here I am**

 

"I've gotta reply!" Shouyou shouts happily, unfazed by the fact that his soulmate seems to be the rudest person alive, and ignoring Kei's attempts to back away. "Do you have a pen?"

 

"If you'd let me go—"

 

Shouyou releases him and he instantly rummages in his backpack for a marker. Despite the rumours, he's not a sadist, and the last person he wants to see unhappy is Shouyou— Sho, who's eyes are shining in sheer, giddy happiness.

 

He presses the uncapped marker in his right hand. Shouyou positions it over his hand, and _hesitates_.

 

Kei stares. Hesitation is a first for Shouyou.

 

"What's wrong?" He glares. The uncertainty in his eyes is disconcerting. "Write something!"

 

"What?"

 

"What _what_?"

 

"What do I write?" Shouyou says, with the same hesitation. It's unnerving Kei.

 

"What do you mean?" Kei nearly yells. "Write anything. Say hello! When have you not had something to say?"

 

"But—what if he doesn't like me?"

 

_That._

 

That makes Kei's heart stop.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"What if he doesn't like me?" Shouyou repeats. "I know I'm loud and hyperactive and annoying. What if he finds me annoying?"

 

"For god's sake, Hinata!" Kei explodes, finally. He's frustrated, but not with Shouyou— with what, he really has no idea, but it's there, bubbling inside him, spilling over. An image of green paint flashes in his mind, and he pushes it away, gritting his teeth.

 

"Tsukis—"

 

"He's your soulmate!" He shouts, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent surroundings. "He'll love you, no matter what!"

 

There's a pause.

 

"Right," Shouyou says, and he smiles at him, and Kei knows it's going to be alright.

 

He positions the marker over her hand and writes _hello! I'm Hinata Shouyou!_ in his large, loopy writing.

 

The reply starts forming almost instantly. **I'm Kageyama Tobio**

 

_Eh? What kind of a name is Tobio?_

 

**A better one than Shouyou!**

 

_Oi, Bakageyama!_

 

**Don't call me names!**

 

_Bakageyamaaaaaaaa_!

 

**Shut up**

 

**I'm going to deny this to the grave but I've really been looking forward to meeting you**

 

_Me too!!! I'm so excited!!!!! To get to know you!!!!!_

 

**Enough, dumbass**

 

Shouyou grins and starts to reply— _Watch who you're calling a dumbass_!—and Kei turns away. It's really none of his business.

 

___

 

His curiosity wins, though, and he ends up asking his elder brother about soulmates over dinner. He phrases the question as casually as he can, but he can tell his brother isn't fooled. Thankfully, he doesn't press about why Kei's asking— he skips right to the explanation.

 

"A soulmate, hm." Akiteru puts a forkful of pasta into his mouth and chews penseively before continuing. "It's someone who was made for you, which means you were made for someone."

 

Kei hums to show he's listening.

 

"Apparently the universe made sure you couldn't fuck up with love," Akiteru snorts. "Which is fucked up in itself."

 

Kei nods.

 

"I mean, falling in love isn't a mechanism," Akiteru elaborates. "It's a dream to actually fall in love, it's a long, arduous task to keep it going, and it's not as easy as it sounds. Nobody should have the right to decide who we love. Not even the universe."

 

"Yeah," Kei agrees. "It _is_ messed up."

 

Akiteru nods. "How it works is pretty simple, though. Whatever marks you have on your body reflect on your soulmates, and it goes both ways. And because the universe is sadistic, you can't share your personal information— no address, no mobile number. That shit won't show up. Only the name. I guess it's meant to be a challenge to find your soulmate. Everything else shows up, though— including pain."

 

Kei looks up, surprised. Akiteru nods, as if satisfied with his reaction.

 

"If your soulmate feels pain, you feel it too, but muted. By a lot. But you can feel it— and here's the thing."

 

Akiteru leans forward conspirationally.

 

"You can share it, and refuse it."

 

"Huh?" Kei says, startled. "What?"

 

Akiteru nods knowledgeably. "So, like, assume your soulmate broke their leg. That's gotta hurt, right?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"What you can do," he says, whispering as if he's letting Kei know some deeply guarded Universe secret, "is choose to take some pain away from them. You can feel some of your soulmate's pain, so that they have it a bit easier than they usually would."

 

That's news, and it's fairly interesting news. "Really?"

 

Akiteru nods. "Really. Remember when Saeko burnt her hand a few years ago?"

 

"She kept thanking you and you kept rubbing your left hand," Kei confirms. All the pieces start making sense.

 

"That's basically what happened," Akiteru explains. "She got hurt, and I chose to lessen her pain, because I love her."

 

Akiteru says it so easily. I love her. Kei's emotionless heart actually aches slightly, but he still doesn't feel a soulmate-sized hole there. He can definitely do without one, especially if there's pain and other bullshit involved.

 

 

 

They're just about to head up to bed when Kei asks his brother a question that takes even himself by surprise.

 

"Akiteru?" He's always called his brother by his given name, seeing the latter doesn't seem to mind.

 

"Hm?"

 

"Do you love Saeko because she's your soulmate, or because you actually love her because of who she is?"

 

Akiteru seems to contemplate this for a second.

 

"I love her," he says simply. "Maybe the fact that we're soulmates brought us together. But even if we weren't," his hand rests on the handle of his bedroom door. "I think I'd love her the same."

 

He ruffles Kei's hair with his left hand. "Sleep well, baby brother."

 

 

—

 

 

He's fourteen when the bruises start to appear.

 

Usually, they're not serious enough to hurt, but they're visible, for sure— sometimes on his arms, but mostly on his chest and stomach. Sometimes he can actually feel the blows, straight in the gut or to the head, without warning during recess or math.

 

Shouyou notices— contrary to popular belief, the kid is actually pretty perceptive— and asks him everyday, _what's going on, Kei, is your soulmate okay?_

 

And Kei never knows what to answer, because obviously this mysterious soulmate is not okay, but Kei doesn't want to ask, doesn't want to pick up that marker and write a simple _hello_ or _is everything fine?_ because he doesn't want a soulmate, he doesn't care about them at all, it doesn't matter to him.

 

Honestly, he doesn't give two fucks.

 

Not at all.

 

(That's what he tells himself.)

 

But he'll never hear the end of it from Shouyou if he tells him that, especially not now, what with the bruises and wounds and whatnot, so he just says, "yeah, he's fine. Difficult time, that's all."

 

"But you talk to him, right?" Shouyou presses, and Kei turns away, because Shouyou's eyes are too bright, he knows too much, he knows that Kei's lying. "You comfort him, don't you? Tell him that he'll be fine?"

 

"Of course."

 

Kei is usually not a liar. He usually doesn't have anything to lie about, given that he doesn't care about what people think of him, but lying about this to Shouyou seems like a necessity, if only to save energy and time. He allows himself to feel a tiny bit guilty about it when Shouyou nods, satisfied.

 

"Good," the redhead says. Then, "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

 

Before he can ask Shouyou exactly what that's supposed to mean, the shorter one prances away, presumably to his next class.

 

_Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid._

 

"Whatever," Kei says, to nobody in particular.

 

—

 

 

He's in the chemistry lab the next week, doing salt analysis with Shouyou, when pain hits him so hard that he doubles over, clutching his abdomen. It hurts like nothing before— he didn't know anything could hurt this much— and he barely registers Shouyou and his other classmates fluttering around him in concern, because _it hurts it hurts it hurts what's going on_

 

"—kishima? Kei?" Shouyou's hands are light, comforting as the latter helps him up. "You alright? Is it your soulmate?"

 

He refuses to believe in this soulmate connection thing, he always has, but he can nearly hear someone on the other end, pleading, screaming _please please please help me please I can't do it please_

 

It's at that moment that Kei makes his decision. He refuses to share any pain.

 

He straightens, using Shouyou as a support, and wills the pain away back to his soulmate.

 

_I don't want your pain._

_(Please, please, it hurts)_

 

_I don't have a soulmate,_ he thinks scathingly.

 

( _Help me, please)_

_Take your shit with you,_ he thinks, and as he burdens his soulmate again with the last of the physical pain itself, he feels the other person's agony tear through him.

 

( _Don't you love me?)_

 

_No_ , Kei thinks back, and as he completely throws of the last of the hurt, he can almost feel something break on the other end, just as Nishinoya drops his test tube beside him, before the bullshit soulmate-connection shuts off completely and he's back to normal once more.

 

The entire class is watching him.

 

"What was that?" Shouyou whispers. "Is your soulmate okay?"

 

"He's fine," Kei brushes it off. He feels no remorse. "Come on, let's get back to work."

 

 

—

 

 

There's no connection.

 

There was never any connection.

 

(And yet.)

 

( _Don't you love me?)_

 

 

—

 

 

The bruises don't stop.

 

Sometimes, he catches himself circling the wounds on his arm with his index finger subconsciously, thinking about nothing in particular. He stops every time, vaguely disgusted with himself for even acknowledging their presence, but his hand inevitably finds it's way back to his left arm.

 

It becomes a bad habit.

 

He can't feel the actual blows anymore– and if he does, it's only for a split second, before it stops completely. Kei isn't sure whether to be worried or grateful.

 

In the end, he chooses neither.

 

Indifference has always worked well for him.

 

—

 

They're fifteen when Shouyou confronts him about it.

 

In all honesty, Kei knows he had it coming for a while now, but what really surprises him was the way Shouyou asks him about it– calm, composed in a way he never is, and above all, disappointed and a little mellow.

 

They're sitting together in lunch as usual, when he says, "you haven't actually talked to your soulmate, have you?"

 

A moment of silence. Then–

 

"No," Kei admits, not explaining himself any further.

 

Shouyou sighs slightly. There's no angry demand for explanations as to why Kei has chosen to hate a person he doesn't even know.

 

"And the bruises?"

 

Kei shrugs. "I guess he gets bullied."

 

"Poor guy," Shouyou says, voice melancholy, his eyes a little sad. "And no one to talk to, either."

 

Kei refuses to let that last line get to him.

 

 

—

 

 

He's sixteen, brushing his teeth one night, when his wrists start to bleed.

 

He stares. There's barely any blood and no pain whatsoever– his skin is just a little itchy and inflamed, mostly– but he knows that it's a lot worse on the other end, wherever that is.

 

He tries not to panic.

 

(He can't imagine why, though, it's not like he's in any danger, the bleeding in his own wrists is so minimal– so then why–)

 

And then he understands.

 

Guilt. He's experiencing _guilt_.

 

He clamps down on the foreign emotion immediately, terrified at how easily it seems to tear through him, terrified at how it makes him feel, hollow and empty and horrible like it's his fault, but it's not, he knows it's not–

 

(And no one to talk to, either.)

 

Tentatively, before he really registers what he's doing, he opens up the soulmate link, just a little.

 

He can nearly feel his soulmate's surprise on the other end, accompanied by a wave of pain that makes a shiver run down his spine.

 

And then he's receiving pure misery and panic as his soulmate frantically tries to pull back the pain and shut the connection from his end, and instinctively, Kei forces it back open.

 

He's not going to write words on his skin– he knows he's not– but he tries to comfort his soulmate. He honestly has no idea what he's doing, but he tries to think of things that comfort him– strawberries, the smell of rain, quiet, soothing music– and tries to cut through his soulmate's panic.

 

Slowly, the other person calms down. Kei stops thinking about penguins once he's sure his soulmate has a grip of himself.

 

Then he goes and washes off the traces of blood from his wrists. His skin has stops itching, and he's vaguely aware that the connection is still open, his soulmate quietly waiting on the other end.

 

Then words start to form on his forearm. The handwriting is a little messy, but fairly legible.

 

_Hello?_

 

Without thinking about it, he grabs a marker from his pen stand.

 

_Don't write to me ever again._

 

The reply is a little shaky.

 

_Sorry_

 

The connection shuts off.

 

Kei goes back to the bathroom, and tries to wash away the guilt along with the ink.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first work and comments help a lot!
> 
> ~Ash


End file.
